


down to the river

by isawet



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Canon, F/M, Gen, Pre-OT3, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:51:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawet/pseuds/isawet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Audrey tries to come to terms with having a son, Nathan, Duke. The Barn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	down to the river

**Author's Note:**

> Very few specific spoilers for the current season. No beta :(

Audrey looks at herself in the mirror. She presses her fingertips in diagonal lines across her hips. There are no stretch marks across her belly, no purple and red stripes of indents in her skin.

“I have a son,” she says aloud, to feel it on her tongue. She doesn’t feel any different, doesn’t look any different. She closes her eyes to think about what he looked like, blurry features and dark hair. She tangles her fingers in her own hair, yellow and pale against her fingers. Lucy had dark hair, she thinks, Sarah had copper hair. Thinking about him makes pressure build in her temples and behind her eyesockets.

On the bedside table her alarm goes off, beeping insistently as the lit up numbers blink. Audrey pinches the bridge of her nose and goes to get dressed.

//

Nathan comes in every morning and leaves coffee on her desk, setting it down on the scarred wood so she doesn’t have to take it from him, already sipping from a cup of his own. His has the logo from the diner where Jordan works, and Audrey thanks him without ever looking directly at his face.

She searches in the file cabinet archives while she waits for her contacts in Washington and Portland and Colorado to get back to her, a composite of James taped crookedly on the wall. 

//

Claire shows up at her door with two bottles of wine dangling by the neck between her fingers. “I have examined,” she says seriously, “every one of my records.”

Audrey steps back as Claire half stumbles past her into the apartment. “Okay?”

Claire nods very seriously. “Yes. I have no records remaining pertaining to Jordan.” She starts to open and close the cabinets in Audrey’s small kitchen, the bottom of the wine bottles clinking against the counters.

Audrey moves to help her find the glasses and the corkscrew. “Is that important?”

“Yes,” Claire says impatiently, “she is totally not my patient, which means I am _totally_ free to say things like _if you hate touching people so much maybe you should try wearing clothes_.” Audrey smiles despite herself.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she says, and watches Claire slosh dark red liquid into twin mugs. “But it’s not necessary. Nathan... Nathan is happy.”

“Fine,” Claire sighs, and passes Audrey one of the mugs. Audrey takes a small sip, grimacing, and then three quick deep swallows. “We’ll just get really drunk and watch the Food Network. You should start drinking faster to catch up to me.”

“Cheers,” Audrey says, and clinks their cups together. They drink in silence for a beat.

“Skank,” Claire mutters into her wine, and Audrey laughs.

//

Audrey steps up into Nathan’s truck and takes a deep breath. The car smells like fleece lined flannel and bootleather, like Nathan. She pulls her hair back in a messy ponytail and impatiently shoves loose tendrils of hair behind her ears. In the rearview mirror she sees Nathan cup the back of Jordan’s head with infinite gentleness, sees Jordan lean into the touch like a cat. Audrey averts her eyes and stares at the lit up numbers of the car radio until the driver’s side door swings open with a creak and the weight of the car shifts as Nathan climbs in.

“Hey,” he says, turning the engine over, and Audrey shifts awkwardly.

“Hey,” she mumbles. She clears her throat. “A call came in. Suspicious activity at the beach, somewhere called Swift Point?”

Nathan nods, pulling out of the small lot, “Yeah. Popular spot for the local highschoolers. Us pulling up will be enough to break up whatever they’ve got going on.”

They drive in silence, and Audrey looks at her hands in her lap, her fingers braiding around each other and rubbing against the fabric of her jeans. She smells the sea before she sees it, sharp salt spray in the air, and she cracks the passenger side window to feel the breeze on her face.

“Don’t see anyone,” Nathan mutters, pulling to the side of the small by-road and parking. Audrey shoves the heavy door open with both hands and slips off the seat. Her boots sink into the sand and she feels the grittiness of it as grains make their way into her socks. 

“No one here,” she says, picking her way down to the hard packed wet sand closer to the ocean. The beach is utterly deserted, and the waves are gentle enough she can hear the crunch of rough shells under her boots over the sound of water lapping at the shore.

Audrey toes at the corner of a blanket left abandoned and weighed down by wet sand and small piles of rocks, and then pitches abruptly sideways, her vision swaying.

//

Audrey remembers. She remembers standing on this beach, sitting on this blanket, with a handsome man in a handsome hat, and she remembers this ocean roaring in the background with this wind in her hair as she kisses the man with her heart beating fast in her chest and the man’s hand around her hip.

//

Audrey wakes with Nathan’s arm cradled around her waist, his fingers gripping her hip and his hand on her cheek. “Parker, wake up. Parker!”

“Hey,” she says, and tries to sit up. There’s sand in her hair, and her mouth, and there’s painful pressure in the bridge of her nose, behind her eyes. Nathan sits back on his heels, breathing hard. “I think I fainted,” she says, bringing one hand up to press against her temple. “I--I haven’t been sleeping.”

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Nathan repeats, and then seems to realize he’s still touching her, the callouses on his fingertips and palm rubbing against her face. He pulls back so fast Audrey almost falls over again, and she bites her lip so hard she tastes blood. Nathan stares at her like he’s waiting for something.

“Yeah,” Audrey says finally. “There’s no one here, let’s just go.”

“I’ll drop you home,” Nathan says, and stops halfway through the motion of offering her a hand up. He shakes his head a little and grabs her by the elbow, helps her to her feet. 

Audrey smiles. “Nathan it’s like two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah well,” Nathan says as they start walking back to the truck. “Apparently you need to catch up on your sleep.”

Audrey climbs into the truck and rests her head against the cool glass window. Nathan buckles himself in and starts the familiar drive to the Grey Gull. “If you ever feel like telling me what’s actually going on, I’m here,” he says. Audrey swallows.

“Just need to sleep,” she says, and his jaw flexes.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he says shortly, and Audrey blinks away the sting in her eyes, uses the sleeve of her long sleeved tee to wipe at the smear of blood above her lip.

//

Duke finds her sitting in the little rowboat tied to the back of the Grey Gull, her pants rolled up and her feet trailing in the ocean, watching the sun break over the water. There are dried flakes of blood under her nails and her toes have gone numb, the sun just barely visible over the horizon.

“I brought you coffee,” he says, and blows the steam into her face. “Also, I’d like to remind you at this point that nothing would anger slash make Nathan more jealous than sleeping with me.”

Audrey takes the mug from him and throws him a look. Duke raises his hands in mock appeasement. “Too soon for jokes?”

“Thanks for the coffee, Duke,” Audrey says pointedly, and he grins, before his expression smoothes out, becomes more serious. He scrubs a hand through the mess of his hair.

“I don’t want you to think that things have to be weird between us,” he says finally. “You--you’re probably the closest friend I’ve got.” Audrey scoots sideways on the benchseat and pats the scarred wood. The boat tips and rocks as Duke clomps inside, his weight warm and comforting at her side. “I’m legitimately worried this is going to capsize,” Duke says. “You’re aware it’s been slowly sinking for years, right?”

“You’re my best friend too, Duke,” Audrey says, and huddles farther into her coat. Duke digs a rag out of a pocket and leans to wet it in the ocean.

“Give me your hand,” he says, and cleans the dots of blood from her cuticles, wipes at her face.

“Where did you see the barn?” Audrey asks, and Duke freezes.

“Audrey--” he says, and she takes his hand. His fingers clench tight enough around hers to hurt. “There,” he says, pointing out over the water. “You’re not leaving,” he adds quickly. “Nathan would kill me without you around.”

Audrey smiles, and leans her head against his side. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and they sit together, rolling with the waves and watching the sun reach long golden fingers across the glittering ocean.

//

Audrey starts coming in at six in the morning, five in the morning. The coffee on her desk is cold and bitter on her tongue and she tries to swallow without tasting it. 

She stands in the middle of the archive room with dust settling in her eyes and her nose on the day she exhausted every avenue of investigation and slides slowly to the floor. She presses her forehead to the wooden planks and takes a deep breath, then another.

“I had a son,” she says aloud, and wipes the tears from her eyes.

She prints out a picture of the Colorado Kid, James, her James, and folds it into fourths, keeps it tucked behind her shield.

//

Nathan is leaning against the deck railing, trying not to laugh at something Duke’s just said, drinking from a beer sweating fat beads of condensation, and Duke is turning the steaks over on the grill, waving the woodsmoke from his face, eyes crinkled up in a smile, chewing on a long stemmed blade of wheatgrass and throwing conspiratory looks at Audrey sitting on the thickest patch of railing, her barefeet braced against the edge, rolling her beer between her palms, looking out over the water so she won’t outright laugh at Nathan when she sees it.

It’s ordinary, fashioned in a very New England sort of way, and fuzzy around the edges, blurred like in a dream. Audrey feels a sudden, overwhelming surge of terror so intense it takes the breath from her lungs like a physical blow, and then she pitches forward as she loses consciousness, watching the water rush at her face.

//

Audrey remembers walking into the barn with the taste of bile in her throat, she remembers her nails biting into her palms hard enough to bleed, she remembers thinking _for Haven, for James_ she remembers whispers in her mind and Haven wrapping around her like a living creature, she remembers--

//

Audrey wakes with Duke’s lips on hers and Nathan’s hands over her heart, arching up in a seizure of pain. She cries out, thrashing, and then goes limp. She covers her eyes with one shaking hand and tries to breath normally.

“Jesus Christ,” Duke says, and Nathan fumbles for her hand, his fingers pressed to the pulse point under her jaw.

“I’m okay,” she says, and Duke helps her up and over to a chair. “Something is burning,” she mumbles, and Duke curses, hurries over to the grill.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Nathan says tightly, and uses the sleeve of his shirt to pinch her nose. “Lean forward and let it clot naturally. Put your head between your knees.”

“I’m okay,” Audrey says again, and Nathan snorts.

“Food’ll keep,” Duke says, “come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going,” Audrey asks, and gets twin looks of disbelief.

“The hospital,” Nathan says, and Duke jingles his keys.

“We all know this isn’t something the hospital can help me with,” Audrey says. “Can we please---I want to eat dinner with the people I care about.”

“Audrey,” Duke says reluctantly, “you lost consciousness. you _stopped breathing_. Can you promise me this won’t happen when you’re alone?”

“Parker,” Nathan says, and stops. He starts again. “Audrey. Please stop making me agree with Duke.”

Audrey giggles a little, stretches. “I’m okay. Let me go change, and we’ll eat. Please?” Duke points a pair of tongs at her.

“If you’re not back in under five minutes,” he threatens, and Audrey nods seriously. Nathan takes a long time letting go of her hand, and the red imprint of his palm stays on her sternum for the rest of the night.

//

“You’re not going anywhere,” Duke says, his shoulder pressed side by side against hers.

“I’ll stop it,” Nathan says simply, and his fingers fit between hers like they belong.

//

Audrey starts to believe them.


End file.
